


Small Things in Life

by WonderfullyWanderingAlone



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Fluffiness, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-02
Updated: 2012-12-02
Packaged: 2017-11-20 03:23:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/580759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WonderfullyWanderingAlone/pseuds/WonderfullyWanderingAlone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ivan never knew exactly what love felt like, nor how to return it. He never felt the warmth from his parents or his friends when he was younger. He never knew what it was like to love somebody so much that your heart wanted to ripe it's way out of your chest with every beat. </p>
<p>But when a certain Chinese man comes up on his doorstep one day to discuss a trading problem, Ivan can't help but let his eyes linger on the mans appearance. Everything that makes Yao so special, even to Ivan who wasn't as cold as everybody thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Small Things in Life

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little one shot I was working on.

Ivan wasn’t exactly sure what love was. What is it the way somebody woes you? The feeling you get as you stare at them across the table every night, just watching the rivulets of light cascading down their hair. Maybe it was true love at first sight; when you look at somebody and just know deep down that they are meant for you; and you only. If somebody would to ask him if that love could grow all he could say is that he didn’t know himself, it matters what he shows. But Ivan didn’t always show what he felt.

Ivan hadn’t been around love for long. His family had been distant. No warm hugs were embraced when his family got together, no kisses on the cheek to signify that he was cared for. Instead he was shut up most of the time in his little room, drawing pictures of flowers that he had only seen on his fathers photos of other worlds.

Worlds meaning different countries. He didn’t think of them as countries at that point in time, instead they seemed so far away and different he didn’t think they could be part of the same planet as his own. The shinning faces in the photos so different from the unemotional ones he’d grown up with. Those rich and bright sunflowers, that he could never touch; for he was afraid they would wilt underneath sinful finger tips. The pictures of people in shorts and tank tops, while he was dressed in a warm coat at all times.

When he was little he used to walk outside, dressed up in a long scarf, and that long coat that his father had fitted only for him. Sometimes he would wear a knit hat with it, when he could find it. He would walk all the way to a small field behind his home, his feet with that familiar crunching sound the snow made underneath.

He would then lay in the cold winter snow, letting the snowflakes that seemed to always fall in Russia, landing on his cheeks. His skin had long ago gotten used to the chill, no longer turning pale skin, apple red. His bare finger tips would slip into the cold snow and he’d clench it. His body heat turned it to water between his finger tips, but yet he didn’t mind. Pain no longer affected him, whether that pain was from right now or it was skin deep.

As Ivan grew older, and the people around him left or died, he stopped going to that field. He stopped dreaming of those flowers, stopped thinking of the hugs that he had never gotten; but other little children had. Instead he spent his time behind a desk, a childish smile on his face, as he read reports.

Nobody would know that those reports were reports of death, or war. No, his smile never left no matter what they were about. His cheeks stayed rosy, as he read how one nation was stopping trade with him.

Then one day he seen him. It wasn’t exactly love at first sight, or so Ivan would say later. Instead he’d just gazed at the shorter man in front of him, trying to understand how anybody could live with that long of hair. That long, thick hair, that he’d love to wind his fingers in.

“Ivan? Are you even listening to me?” The man said, and Ivan’s lips tilted up. His voice was nice too.

“Da! Of course I am.” Ivan paused, a small dimple appearing on his chubby cheeks, “What did you say?”

“There’s no point in this.” The man said and sighed, “I shouldn’t have to deal with this. I am China!”

“I am Russia.” Ivan said, not quit understanding everything that was going on. Especially not why this man had shown up on his door, dressed in the fluffiest coat Ivan had ever seen. Yao’s cheeks were still red though, and his breath blew out in front of him in the form of white smoke.

“Yes, that is why I am here...” Yao said, and rubbed his forehead, before he pushed his hair to the side, catching Ivan’s eyesight. Again, he didn’t understand. That hair, it looked kind of silky, and their were snowflakes melting into it. How horrible, to have something like those cold snowflakes, falling into warmth like that.

“Why don’t you cut your hair?” Ivan asked, suddenly, “It’s very long. You could be much better if it wasn’t holding you back all the time.”

Yao stared at him, and shivered, “You say the oddest things! I like my hair long. Why do you care? Stop looking at my hair!”

Hmm... Ivan thought, Yao seems to be all over the place tonight. “Why are you here again?” Ivan asked, his eyes amused.

“Oh. My boss sent me, cause of trade problems. Apparently I’m supposed to talk to you about it? I’m not sure.”

“Oh... I am not aware of what you are talking about.” Ivan said, opening the door to his home, and inviting the other in.

One thing the other countries just didn’t really do, was walk into Ivan’s home. They never knew what to expect. But how could you be mean to somebody, with a face like that? Plus Yao was worried he was going to turn into a giant icicle if he stood out in the snow anymore.

“Thank you, aru.” Yao said, walking into the room, stomping his feet slightly on the rug so he didn’t get any snow on Ivan’s wood flooring.

The room was much brighter than Yao expected. He half expected there to be blood splattered on the wall, and varying degrees of dust and carnage. Instead the room was clean and tidy, a small desk sat in the corner, with papers scattered across it. In the middle of the room were two large couches, sitting on bright red carpet. The walls were covered in rich brown, slowly turning lighter as the staircase came into view.

“Nice house.” Yao said, walking his way over and sitting in a chair across from the desk, rubbing his hands together.

“Da. Sorry about the mess.” Ivan said, sitting behind his own desk and placing a folder over a certain piece of paper. A certain piece of paper that he had already read, over trading with China.

“No problem. I don’t care.” Yao sat awkwardly, trying to keep his eyes down, “You want to discuss trade?”

“Oh! Yes! What would you like to discuss about it?” Ivan asked, leaning back in his chair, and loosening the scarf around his neck. His eyes, though seemed to be on Yao’s face, were on his hair instead.

“Well apparently you sent us a whole bunch of stuff filled with lead paint? You said you had looked over it. I gave that to my kids, aru!” China said, gripping the arms of his chair.

"People make mistakes. My bad.” Ivan said, giving another smile. Smiles, he had learned, solved most things.

“Don’t look at me like that! We have sick people!” Yao growled out, leaning forward slightly.

“I do not care.” Ivan said, just as sweetly as if he was saying what he was going to have for supper for the night.

Yao didn’t exactly know what to say to that. You just didn’t argue with something like that. Unless of course you wanted to end up thrown out of this house with many bruises upon him. He’d seen it before, and didn’t feel like becoming an example for others.

“Judging by your silence, you agree then, da?” Ivan asked, crossing his ankles under his desk. It was a habit he was trying to get out of, because it reminded him of when he was little.

"My silence... My silence is because I am not sure what to agree with!” The Chinese man said, placing his hands on the table and huffing.

Ivan’s eyes lowered down to Yao’s chest, watching it rise and fall in his desperation. How odd, Ivan thought, for such a small and innocent looking man to get so flustered over the most trivial of things. Though Ivan almost liked the way his clothes fluttered down across his waist, hugging his chest evenly, and then down to where his pants met his thighs.

“Silence speaks volumes.” Ivan said, quietly. He leaned back, lacing his hands across his chest, and gave his trademark smile.

)“Well volumes is what we need to speak of! I can’t get away with my people getting sick over this!” Yao said, his hands clenching into fists.  
  
What Ivan wouldn’t give to reach out, and hold those warm hands, unlacing the fingers from the palm.  
  
“I will not make the mistake again?” Ivan said, almost as if it was a question.  
  
Yao’s head tilted down.  
  
“No you won’t. I have to stop trading with you, Russia.”  
  
Russia felt his chest seize oddly, something he had never felt before. Odd, he’d never thought that the trade with China could be so important to him. But when would the long haired man come see him again, if not to yell at him about such things?  
  
“But what am I supposed to do with the shipments?” Ivan asked, his voice still sweet, like his fathers used to be.  
  
“Give them to America. He’s always asking for new trading partners, or more shipments.”  
  
Ivan didn’t want the American to visit though. He wanted Yao to visit, in his fluffy coat cause he wasn’t used to the cold. With his hair that drifted in the wind as Ivan watched him walk away from his home.  
  
“No.” Ivan said, suddenly, his face becoming dark, “No, I can not do that.”  
  
“Ivan, I don’t think you understand. This isn’t just my decision. My boss has already started it.”  
  
Ivan looked down at his hands, his eyes flashing. No, this was unacceptable.  
  
“I will try harder, da?” Ivan asked, looking up with his big eyes.  
  
Yao found it hard to resist that. After all, even if the man was very large, there was something very innocent about him. Yao admired that. How could a man who’d been through all that, still act so childish at times? As if life and death meant absolutely nothing to him.  
  
“Ivan, I’m not doing this as a friend, I’m doing this as a nation.” Yao said, tilting his head down.  
  
Ivan’s fingers clenched tighter. That was the problem. They were nations, not friends. They were meant to start wars with each other, not laugh mistakes off over a bottle of his favorite Vodka.  
  
“But your boss isn’t you, is he?” Ivan asked. It was his last tactic. His fingers splayed over the file on his desk. Hidden from Yao’s eyes.  
  
“No... but I can’t play that game with you.” Yao said, and started for the door.  
  
Ivan jumped out of his seat quicker than he had done ever before, “Learn how to play.”  
  
“Play what?” Yao asked, turning around, only to find Ivan’s large body oh so close to his own.  
  
“Play the game. You like games? I like games. I like games where I can go and make snow angels in the snow.” Ivan said, biting his lip.  
  
Yao’s breathing hitched. He’d never heard such words come out of Ivan’s lips. So truthful.  
  
“That... That’s not... what I meant, aru.”  
  
“It is what I meant! I am not obtuse, am I?” Ivan’s fingers twitched as he spoke. He wanted to touch Yao’s cheek. It looked so soft, up close.  
  
“N-No!” Yao said, flustered. He could feel Ivan’s breath on his cheek, “Back up, aru!”  
  
Ivan flinched, stepping back. Right, no contact. That was a rule he had to keep.  
  
“You leave now.” Ivan said, suddenly. He turned his head away, straightening his scarf.  
  
Ivan heard footsteps, then a sudden hand on his shoulder, making him jump. Oh how warm that hand was compared to the air drifting in through the floorboards.  
  
“Are you okay, aru?”  
  
What a simple question, but yet so hard to answer. Was Ivan okay? He was not sure. Was love okay between two different nations? Again, he was not sure. But when was he ever sure about anything?  
  
“No; Yes; Maybe. I do not know. I would like to touch your hair though.” Ivan didn’t wait for a reply. His hand drifted up to Yao’s head and slipped into his bangs. They were just as soft as they looked, he found out pleased.  
“W-What are you doing, aru?” Yao whispered, looking up at him with wide eyes. Yet he did not move.  
  
“I wanted to touch your hair. I like it, it’s soft.” Ivan said, reaching up and instead putting his hand over Yao’s chest. To feel his heart that was beating away ever so quickly.  
  
“Ivan... don’t... do that to me...” Yao whispered, looking down.  
  
“No. You do not want me to.” Ivan decided, smiling up at him with an amused smile.  
  
Perhaps, Ivan mused, if he were to take over everybody he would leave this little nation to himself. He would not watch them go away like everybody else. Perhaps he would let this pleasant chinese man to stay with him for a bit longer. After all, he’d like to see what two snow angels looked like beside each other. Would their wings touch?  
  
Ivan felt a hand on his cheek, a thumb brushing the skin.  
  
“Don’t let the world you live in, live you Ivan. Remember to keep yourself happy along with your people. If you're happy, they will be too.” Yao whispered, leaning forward slightly, “I will talk to my boss... and you will visit soon, aru.”  
  
“Yes.” Ivan said, slowly withdrawing his hands from Yao’s hair. Then that hair was gone, those flushed cheeks, and lithe body were out the door and into that cold air.  
  
“Hmm...” Ivan mumbled, making his way back to his desk, “Some things are best kept secret.” and put away the file over trading with China.  
  
Maybe Ivan wasn't sure what love was. Maybe he'd never seen it before, but there was a first time for everything. But love was all of those little things bundled up into one, that sealed its way into your heart without you even realizing it. Even if the angels that Ivan made were made in something so cold, his heart wasn't. Those angels though, were going to have a friend soon. Somebody who was a bit shorter, and with long hair that was soft to the touch. Then, maybe, their wings would in fact overlap.  



End file.
